


Wide awake

by ElsaFH (Elsa0806)



Series: AtsuHina Week 2020 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, AtsuHina Week, AtsuHina Week 2020, Field Trip, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Hinata Shouyou, POV Miya Atsumu, Pining, Pining Hinata Shouyou, Pining Miya Atsumu, Sexual Tension, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24619885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsa0806/pseuds/ElsaFH
Summary: AtsuHina Week, Day 3: Mutual Pining.Atsumu and Shouyou have been dancing around each other from the moment he made it into the MSBY Black Jackals, two years ago.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Series: AtsuHina Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777000
Comments: 23
Kudos: 208





	Wide awake

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hello there! This is Eli here, posting today's entry for the week as soon as the clock hits midnight. We be productive in this house, kids. 
> 
> I'm so, so thankful for all the beautiful comments you people have given me, either here on AO3 or Twitter. I cannot even begin to explain how happy every single one of them has made me. I didn't think I'd get this much love from y'all with me having started to write in English until a few months ago. Thank you so much for all your support and kind words. I am currently a puddle of soft things and uwus because of all the pretty things you've told me. You're all so sweet, I can't ;^; <3 
> 
> And with me still being a puddle of uwus, let me welcome you to the third entry for this year's AtsuHina Week! I really hope you guys enjoy this. It's a bit shorter than the other two I already posted, so I really hope that doesn't become a problem kdsfjhsk.
> 
> Anyway, without further ado, I'll let you guys read. Please enjoy and I'll see you at the end notes! 

Shouyou’s eyes find Atsumu’s and the smile that the setter directs at him makes his heart skip a beat. The lump in his throat is something he’s gotten used to by now although that doesn’t make it any easier to breathe around it; it’s like a giant hand gripping his throat, threatening with snapping his neck in between giant fingers that hold a power Shouyou is incapable of imagining. He knows this metaphorical image popping up into his head is just the way his brain has to throw all his feelings towards Atsumu to his face, reminding him of how many things he’s been swallowing for two years already, but that doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. 

He smiles at Atsumu and waits for him to turn back his gaze to the window before letting go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding. Every time Atsumu’s stare locks with his it feels like he’s got him pinned against the closer wall. It’s so much that sometimes Shouyou feels like he can’t handle such overwhelming weight, even when he knows there’s nothing else he can do about his _issue_. He’s bound to keep smiling up at him, waiting for him to focus his attention on something else so Hinata can finally breathe.

He’s too far gone and he knows it. He’s not gonna do anything about it, however, because at this point the fact that he’s deeply and irremediably in love with him is part of his personality. He’s got problems imagining how would he describe himself if he took his unrequited feelings out of the equation. How would it sound? _«_ _Hinata Shouyou, professional volleyball player for the MSBY Black Jackals, twenty four years old, one meter seventy four centimetres. Big fan of meat buns. Volleyball obsessed. Multilingual_ _»_ _._

Whenever that description sneaks around his thoughts and ends up in the front of his mind, Hinata has the burning need of swat it away in the same way one would with an annoying fly. He doesn’t like the idea of describing himself based on his feelings for someone else because he is his own person, but he doesn’t like the idea of just existing for professional matters only. Granted, he’s got a ton of friends he hangs out with and he loves them all equally, but there’s something deeply endearing in having romantic feelings for someone.

Or maybe he just needs to get laid and forget how he’s been feeling ever since he joined the team. It’s complicated to tell which one’s the right answer because he isn’t used to think so much about his personal issues. Volleyball consumes all his brain cells and his friends never get tired of bringing that up; what he does with his feelings and his interpersonal relationships is other story. He’s fed up with all of that because he’s in love and he’s horny and at this point he doesn’t even know which one is worse.

He also doesn’t really know if both are directed to the same person, but that’s something he won’t go over right now; the mere idea of feeling more _things_ for Atsumu makes him feel tired and sleepy. He needs a break. He also needs to kiss the dude but _that_ won’t be discussed.

The bus comes to a stop a few hours later and Hinata wakes up from a peaceful nap. Bokuto at his left stirs in his sleep and mumbles something about having to call Akaashi as soon as he hops off the bus, and Inunaki in the seat right in front of Shouyou’s stretches his arms over his head. There seems to be a cloud of sleepiness hanging from the roof of the bus and while the doors buzz open and the engine finally falls silent, everyone tries to shake off the slumber. Hinata yawns against the inside of his elbow and ruffles his own hair like he always does whenever he wakes up, stretching his legs into the space under Inunaki’s seat.

The muscles of his thighs press against the hem of his sweatpants and a soft whine muffles against his pressed lips. Blinking into the hard, cold light of the streetlamps bathing the streets of Hokkaidou, Shouyou’s eyes find Atsumu’s once more. They look puffy because of the nap he’s just waking up from and his hair is dishevelled in a way Hinata knows is not common. It looks like someone ran their fingers through the strands without caring about the final result.

Shouyou’s fingers tickle. He shouldn’t think about someone, _anyone_ , running his fingers through Atsumu’s hair. It makes him want to go and do it.

Atsumu smiles at him, puffing out some air to push a wanderer strand of hair out of his eyes. Shouyou follows the motion of his mouth with an attentive stare and chokes on his own spit when Bokuto elbows him in the ribs, positively snapping him out of his Atsumu-induced-daze.

“C’mon, Hinata!” he beams, laughing at the top of his lungs after giving Shouyou something that must’ve felt like a friendly clap on his shoulder but ends up knocking the air out of his lungs. He’s probably laughing at the _oof_ that escaped his lips, too. “We need to leave!”

Hinata groans under his breath while ignoring the sting of the clap on his shoulder, the red, prickling sensation stretching across his upper arm and his shoulder blade. Still, without ever losing his smile, Shouyou pushes himself up and tosses the crumbled travel blanket onto the seat, stretching his arms over his head with a sound of effort catching in his throat.

He feels sore and stiff from the sixteen hours (with a few stops to stretch their legs, buy something to eat and maybe, just maybe, doze off on the shoulder of certain blond teammate while sitting on a bench) he spent sitting on the same spot; his back sure is complaining a lot while he grumbles like an old man on his way to the doors of the bus. With a gripe of effort, Hinata hops off of the vehicle and shakes his arms at each side of his body, repeating the process with his legs until he finally stops feeling the unpleasant tingle of the stiff muscles.

Bokuto hops off onto the pavement a few seconds later, followed by Meian and Inunaki. Adriah is already jumping on his spot to produce some warmth and his breath ghosts over his head and in front of his face like a heart rate detector; the cold of Sapporo dresses the world with half-frozen water drops inlaid in the cracks of the pavement and embedded on the surface of the windows and walls around them. Hinata blows some hot air onto the tip of his fingers and rubs his hands together in a futile attempt to warm them up.

There’s a groan of pain coming from behind his back and he doesn’t have to look over his shoulder to know the one complaining about how much time they spent on a bus is Atsumu. The grogginess of his voice betrays his intent of sounding somewhat sober in the current situation, and the low pitch, gritty texture of his voice sparkles something through Shouyou’s nerves that says he would like to be still asleep, thank you very much. Hinata giggles to himself when Atsumu says something along the lines of “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, did we have ta come all the way from Tokyo?” with the petulant tone of voice of a whimsical child.

Coach Foster answers something that makes Atsumu snort but goes unheard by Hinata’s ears; he’s too focused on his teammate, who’s now walking a few steps in front of him with his arms stretched over his head, his left hand gripping around his right wrist. He can only imagine the way his muscles tense and move under his skin like greased gears and machinery pieces. The image is fuelled by countless times of having seen him half-naked in the dressing room of the Black Jackals’ base and it’s enough to make his mouth go dry.

“Shouyou-kun,” Atsumu calls, snapping Hinata out of his _horny_ thoughts. “Ya okay there?”

Hinata blinks owlishly at him, biting the tip of his tongue in between his front teeth.

“Perfectly fine, Atsumu-san,” he lies. With an innocent smile, he reaches the setter’s position and begins walking at the same pace as if nothing’s happening. The hotel lights cast a dim glow on the pavement and turn his teammate’s face into a study of contrasts. “Why do you ask?”

Atsumu tilts his head and takes a quick glance over his shoulder to the hotel employees that are getting their luggage out of the bus. There’s a smirk pulling at the right corner of his mouth and Shouyou has the sudden need of running the flat of his tongue along the length of his mouth. _Stop!_

“Ya look… red,” he comments. His right hand reaches out in the direction of Hinata’s face, and the tip of his index finger hovers over the highest angle of his cheekbone; Shouyou can see the edge of a nail in the periphery of his vision and the sudden warmth that spreads over his face makes Atsumu chuckle. “Ya cold?”

Shouyou blinks. It’s not like he can’t manage a little bit of cold; he used to live in Miyagi after all. The stinging kiss of the mountain air during winter is very much like the one of Hokkaidou, although the latter is definitely sharper and more vicious. It seeps through his clothes and engraves red onto the tip of his fingers and purple on the white part of his nails.

“Not really,” he answers, smiling up at his teammate. Atsumu looks at him with a glint of curiosity glimmering in his hazel eyes and Hinata wonders if the slight blush on his cheeks is due to the chilly air or something more he isn’t seeing. “I think it’s the sudden temperature change. The bus was warm but out here…”

“Yah. This’s Sapporo after all. Didja bring a jacket?”

“It’s in my suitcase,” Hinata pouts. He already knows their luggage is currently being carried to their rooms and he really isn’t used to that sort of service. Not yet, at least. “It’s okay though, we’ll enter the hotel in a few.”

“I can lend ya my jacket if ya need it.”

Hinata stops dead in his tracks and stares at Atsumu with big, surprised eyes. The setter stops a few steps in front of him, turning on his heels just enough to take a look at Shouyou’s astonished expression; the pink that dusts his cheeks is not something Hinata’s imagining. It cannot be something that’s only in his head if he’s able to see it even under the dim lights of the hotel’s front.

“Would you really do that?”

“’m offerin’ aren’t I?” he sounds a bit embarrassed and the fact that he hides his hands inside of the pockets of his jacket only reaffirms Hinata’s first deduction. A smile makes its way to his lips while Atsumu looks away. “C’mon, ya gonna accept it or what?”

“It’s not necessary, Atsumu-san,” he thanks, finally starting to walk again. The hotel is just a few feet away and he’s sure his teammate knows this, although he won’t say no to some chivalrous coming from the man he’s been crushing on for years already. “But thank you.”

“Yah, yah, whenever ya want, Shouyou-kun. Let’s go inside, my ass’s freezin’.”

* * *

After everyone’s finished setting up their rooms, they hold a little meeting to pass the needed information regarding the next day’s match. Coach Foster gives a long list of sponsors and events that will be held in the next three days, explaining that most of them will be charity to raise funds for some cause Shouyou doesn’t really catch the name of. He doesn’t mind not really knowing the name, however; he’s just happy to be here, happy to be able to play and help someone at the same time.

The meeting is over after one hour and a half; it ends with Coach Foster going over some strategy and rotations that would be their “secret weapon” in case things don’t go the way they expect. The team seems to be buzzing with bad contained energy and Shouyou is glad to not be the only one amongst the jackals who’s struggling to stay calm; he feels like he could _explode_ in expectance for the game. He travelled sixteen hours by bus and is bone-tired but the perspective of playing manages to flip a switch within him he knows he needs to turn off if he doesn’t want to repeat the disaster of his first National tournament in high school.

After dinner, each member of the team says their goodbyes and heads off for bed. It’s currently 10 pm, they need to wake up early for tomorrow’s events, and the exhaustion that clashes with the energy buzzing around them seems to hang over their heads like a lazy spider that makes them drag their feet over the carpet while they cross the distance that separates them from their rooms. Hinata is still too awake for his liking, and while he watches Inunaki disappearing in the corner of the corridor that leads to his room, he thinks that maybe he needs to go swimming to finally be able to turn off the switch.

He brought his bathing-suit, didn’t he?

Shouyou scrunches his nose. He doesn’t really know if he remembered to pack his bathing-suit. It’s not really common for him to have to tire himself so he can go to bed and get his eight hours of sleep.

“What’re ya thinkin’, Shouyou-kun?”

Shouyou blinks in Atsumu’s direction, realizing he’s been probably standing on the same spot for at least five minutes without even batting an eyelash. The t of the blush creeps up his cheeks and reaches out to the tip of his hears, tying a knot in his throat the he quickly swallows before letting a nervous laugh fall from his mouth.

“I uh—” he begins, clearing his throat. He switches his weight from his left foot to his right, scratching at the back of his head in an anxious manner he’s still hasn’t been able to get rid of. “I was trying to remember if I packed my bathing-suit.”

“ _Bathin’-suit_?” Atsumu repeats. The slightly high-pitched tone his voice reaches at the end of his question makes Shouyou giggle. “Why’d ya need a bathin’-suit in _Hokkaidou_ of all places?”

“I still got too much energy,” Hinata explains, grimacing at the need of saying that out loud. He wouldn’t care if he was telling this to any other person but this is Atsumu we’re talking about; his crush on him kind of makes it embarrassing to tell him any detail that makes him look like the goof he is. “Kinda need to… blow off some steam, I guess.”

A few seconds pass without any of them saying anything; Atsumu’s hazel eyes are on Shouyou’s amber ones, locking stares as if the world faded into nothingness. For a moment there, Shouyou feels like he’s suddenly surrounded by a bubble in which only the two of them exist; the increasing rate of his beating heart, the slightly harsh breath that seems to hitch in his throat. The need of saying something, anything, flourishes in his chest and makes him press his lips together until they become a pale line.

And then Atsumu barks out a laugh that lets him momentarily confused while his joy rings in Shouyou’s ears. It’s not like Atsumu never laughs, it’s just that everytime he does he feels like his brain turns into gooey. _Jesus Christ_ if he could be more fucked than he already is…

“What’s so funny?” he complains, trying —and failing— not to pout.

“I can’t believe ya still got energy,” he chuckles once his laughter subdues. Atsumu wipes the imaginary tear from the corner of his left eye with one dramatic motion that makes Shouyou puff out a half annoyed half affectionate giggle. “We just travelled like, sixteen hours by bus? My back’s killin’ me.”

“You could try yoga,” Hinata suggest, shrugging. He realizes _too late_ that the idea of Atsumu doing yoga does… _things_ with his stomach he’s not sure he wants to describe out loud. “It’s uh— a good way to soothe sore muscles.”

“Sounds like a good idea ta me, not gonna lie,” Atsumu admits, frowning slightly. Shouyou buries the sudden thought of wanting to slide the tip if his index finger over the wrinkle in between his eyebrows into the deepest part of his mind, stomping on it until it lies dead underneath the sole of his shoes. “Ya do yoga regularly, dontcha?”

“Yeah. Started doing it in Brazil— along with meditation.”

Atsumu looks at him from head to toe and Shouyou almost feels the physical touch if his stare roaming over his frame. He has the sudden and burning need of shuffling uncomfortably on his spot but very much like the desire of running his finger over the wrinkle in between Atsumu’s eyebrows, he stomps on it until he can feel the crushed pieces against his feet.

“That’s cool.”

“Thanks.”

“No prob.”

He leaves then, leaving a very flustered Shouyou behind. It’s ridiculous, he thinks, how a single compliment manages to turn him into _mush_. He used to flirt with strangers all the time when he was in Brazil and was not really surprised when he discovered he had a natural talent at it. It was just natural for him; smiling, laughing, touching. All of those things seemed to come naturally to him. Plus, they also seemed to be the basic Brazilian flirting style, if there was such a thing. Why couldn’t he apply the same concepts here? Was it because Atsumu was his teammate? Was it because he was in his home country? Was it because this wasn’t just a one night stand but something far more important?

Shouyou sighs and spews a thread of curses under his breath. It’s almost cathartic to do so and once the last word is out of his mouth, he inhales deeply and starts to walk towards his room. He still has too much energy to be able to sleep early but at least the idea of going to the hotel pool has vanished from his mind.

When he plops down on his bed and turns the TV on, zapping absentmindedly through the channels in search for something entertaining, his back feels sore and stiff probably for having slept in the same position for too long when he was in the bus. He wiggles under the covers after getting rid of his pants and socks, sighing in content when the slightly perfumed duvet weighs comfortable on top of him.

Contrary to his previous beliefs, he feels bone-tired the moment his head hits the pillow. The sheets are soft, they smell amazing, and they’re impossibly soft against his skin. Shouyou almost purrs when he buries himself under the covers while barely casting a sideway glance at the blue glow of the television.

He realizes he’s fallen asleep when his phone goes off on the bedside table, making him jolt awake with the feeling that he’s been ripped off of a very pleasant dream he sadly cannot remember. Hinata tries to blink the confusion and the slumber away from his eyes while he sits up, groaning when the blue glow of the television hits his pupils in an uncomfortable angle.

His thumb slides over the screen and a few seconds later he’s pressing his phone against his ear.

“Yeah?” he mumbles, rubbing at his eyes with the knuckles of his right hand.

“ _Shouyou-kun? Did I wake ya up?_ ”

The slumber vanishes, leaving nothing but a buzzing feeling spreading through his nerves like water on a mirror. It seems to ignite the motion of the gears on his brain, snapping thoughts all over his head like the obturator of a camera.

“Ah… yeah. I fell asleep,” he admits, clearing his throat. His voice sounds thick and heavy from sleeping and he almost chokes on his own spit when he hears Atsumu taking a sharp inhale on the other side of the phone call. The sound crackles through the line with static, sending shivers down his spine. “You need something?”

“I—” Atsumu begins. Shouyou waits patiently for him to continue, counting the seconds of tense silence between them. They’re just a few rooms away, which makes Shouyou wonder why the sudden phone call —no one really calls nowadays after all—, but he admittedly isn’t paying too much attention to the underlying motives Atsumu might have. It’s nice to wake up to his voice although the static of the phone ruins the effect a little. “ _Yer favourite movie. It’s in one of the channels_.”

Shouyou blinks to the darkness of his room. When did he tell Atsumu about his favourite movie?

“Oh,” he sighs, smiling from ear to ear. “Thank you, Atsumu-san. What channel?”

“ _Seventy five_ ,” the other informs. A pang of fondness makes Shouyou’s chest clench. “ _Can I… go over and watch it with ya?_ ”

Silence.

“Of course!” he answers before realizing what he just did.

“ _Be there in a few minutes._ ”

* * *

Neither of them watches the movie, as Atsumu had expected when he called Hinata under the excuse of having found his favourite movie while he was changing absentmindedly through the channels. His favourite movie _was_ broadcasting on one of them but the real reason behind his actions was… just him wanting to spend some quiet time with him. Of course he’d gotten more than he’d bargained for; he absolutely didn’t expect to be under the covers with him, lying on his left side with his forehead pressed to Shouyou’s.

He woke up ten minutes ago with a sudden change of the light coming from the television. Hinata’s favourite movie is long over and there’s some American one playing, something with too many explosions for his liking and a hot chick dressed in a very tight red dress that has his eyes furtively drifting to the screen whenever he senses she appears on it.

Atsumu stopped casting sideway glances to the chick in the tight red dress on the television screen when he noticed the warmth of Shouyou’s forehead pressed to his, the tickling of soft, fluffy orange hair hovering over his skin with the lightness of a feather. And now, as he tries to sharpen his vision to catch the edges of Hinata’s features, he feels his breath hitching in his throat when Shouyou puffs out a sigh that brushes against his lips.

There’s something deeply intimate in sharing a bed like this, he realizes. It’s not only the fact that their fingers are timidly touching underneath the covers or the fact that Shouyou’s angle is hooked to his; there’s so much to this that it doesn’t stop on physically touching each other like they’re doing right now. They’re always touching after all— Hinata’s affection is very physical and he truly enjoys being the main focus of said affection. This, however, is completely different.

This feels like something a couple would do.

Atsumu’s breath catches in his throat when the idea pops up into his head. His mouth goes dry and his heart skips a beat. They _do_ look like a couple, they _are_ behaving like one, and the warm, fuzzy feelings swirling and coiling in his stomach are those of romantic love.

His hand snakes between the mattress and the sheets while his fingers search for Shouyou’s face. He can’t see the edge of his features nor identify the roundness of his cheeks amidst the deep darkness that covers the room like a dense blanket he cannot detangle himself of but he doesn’t need to, however; the moment his fingertips brush against the surprisingly sharp line of Hinata’s jaw, it’s like someone’s injected a tranquilizer straight into his heart.

Although the peace that overflows his chest feels like the calm before the storm, he dares to enjoy it for as long as it lasts. The warmth that seeps through his skin snaps across his nerves on its way up his arm while simultaneously setting his entire being ablaze. It’s ridiculous how a mere touch can fire him up like this, how something so fluttering can make him realize how touch starved he is. The problem is that it’s not as if any touch would do; he longs for Hinata’s in a constant reminder of how he’s been yearning ever since he first laid eyes on him.

His teammate stirs in his sleep. Atsumu feels the muscles of Hinata’s jaw tautening underneath the tip of his middle finger like two machinery pieces falling in place. It’s such a pleasant sensation that he feels shivers snapping down his spine with such strength he’s left breathless and slightly confused. The heat swirling in his stomach extends its fingers and folds around his ribs, enveloping his heart into a warm, tense fog that makes his blood rush through his veins. It feels like a hook attached to the very core of his being and when Hinata opens his eyes and the blue glow of the TV hits his irises, he notices the pull.

Hinata blinks three times. The hook attached to the core of his being pulls three times.

“’Tsumu-san?” Shouyou mumbles, rubbing his knuckles against his left eye. Drowsiness weighs in his voice, grogginess flutters in his eyelids when he tries to blink the slumber away.

Atsumu’s fingers don’t move.

“Did I wake ya up again?” he chuckles. His hand trembles, whether for the strain the position causes in his arm or for the way Hinata’s big, doe eyes look at him in a way he doesn’t know how to describe. He just knows that he yearns and the hook pulls. Atsumu swallows around the lump in his throat and tries to smile. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Hinata puffs out a sleepy chuckle, something that makes Atsumu’s entire world tilt on its axis.

“’S okay,” he slurs through a yawn. He blinks a few times again, the hook in the core of his being pulls with the motion, and Atsumu notices the tiny tears that hang from Hinata’s eyelashes due to the sleepiness that still weighs him down. “Weren’t you asleep, too?”

Three fingertips press against Shouyou’s jawline while his thumb places itself softly underneath his chin. It’s such a short path from there to his lower lip that Atsumu finds himself entertaining the idea of crossing that boundary he just stumbled upon; their relationship has always been more physical than the norm but he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to do this—

Hinata tilts his head, getting away from his grasp just enough to have space to press his lips onto the tip of Atsumu’s thumb. The skin is warm and slightly rough due him biting it; when Atsumu slides his finger along the length of the lower one, the texture sends a wave of electricity that explodes in the middle of his brain and drips across his entire body like water swirling down his skin.

“It’s late,” Hinata whispers. Atsumu hears the sound effect of an explosion coming from the TV speakers. It breaks the suddenly thick silence that hangs above them like a non-asked question. “Don’t tempt me.”

His breath ghosts over his skin and tickles in such a way that it seems as if Hinata’s sliding the tip of a feather directly on his nerve ends. It’s overwhelmingly _hot_. The atmosphere around them isn’t the only thing that feels thick now, because he can feel his throat constricting with sheer lust.

Shouyou’s words seem to have direct connection to his groin because he _feels_ the twitch. It’s unfair. So, so unfair and he wants _nothing_ but to—

“’m the one temptin’ ya?” he chuckles, breathless. He’s five seconds away of telling him how much he’s been pining after him ever since that first time he laid eyes on him, but he refrains from doing so. He doesn’t need to look like a mess. He _is_ a mess but that’s not something he’ll discuss right now. “Have ya ever taken a look in the mirror?”

Hinata blinks. The hook pulls.

There’s a rustle, a string of curses breaking the silence, and then Atsumu is lying on his back and the world is spinning around him with a speed that makes him dizzy. The weight that presses his pelvis against the mattress is the only stable thing he can hold on to and when his hands press against thick thighs that feel like cords under his palms, the whole world seems to come to a sudden stop.

Hinata’s sitting on his _groin_ and _holy shit_ he’s heavy. It’s a good kind of heavy though; it’s real and everything he’s ever wanted. He’s yearned for this for so long already —nine years, maybe? He can’t even _count them—_ that the sudden realization that it is in fact happening makes him wonder if it is a dream.

Ah, there it is. The non-asked question.

_Am I dreamin’?_

Hinata’s frame is drawn against the glow of the TV and he’s never looked more beautiful than he does now. His dishevelled hair stands up in every possible direction, defying gravity in the same way he does whenever he soars to find the ball and smash it on the other side of the court. It’s like an angel descended from heaven itself and _damn_ when did he become such a sap?

“You come into _my room_ ,” Hinata hisses, leaning forward. His hands press the pillow at each side of Atsumu’s head, framing it and positively pining him down in place, “looking like _that_ ,” he keeps on, bending his elbows so he can dive down just enough for his face to hover over Atsumu’s with mere inches in between them, “saying _those things_ and expect me to just go back to sleep?”

Atsumu swallows. Hinata’s eyes follow the motion of his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat amidst the bluish darkness, stained by the glow coming from the television.

“I never said I expected ya ta go back ta sleep though,” he chuckles. The effort he puts into not sounding like an absolute mess almost takes his breath away and he pats himself on the back for having managed to not sound as out of air as he feels. “If ya want ta go back ta sleep this ain’t the best course of action, though.”

Shouyou giggles. The sound makes Atsumu’s blood sing.

“Before we move on,” he begins. His breath brushes against Atsumu’s face and the lump in his throat is suddenly too big to swallow around it, “am I dreaming or something? I feel like I’m still asleep.”

Atsumu opens his mouth to speak, his mind going over all the possibilities. It’s not a hard question. He can answer that without even blink. But the implications behind it need a bit of consideration before being spoken.

He’s not sure as to why he feels so insecure. It’s obvious Hinata wants this as much as he does; the weight pining him down onto the mattress is enough proof of that. The fact that he seems to shake under his touch is just another reason to feel safe in this situation because he is shaking as well. It’s raw desire swirling in his chest along with the long contained feelings that seem to simmer in the pit of his stomach. The current problem is that they aren’t _simmering_ anymore; they’ve gone past boiling and they’re overflowing him with so many things he finds himself choking on them.

Pressing his lips together into a pale line that makes Hinata tilts his head in bad conceited curiosity, he reconsiders.

“Nah, ya ain’t dreamin’.”

He reconsiders that maybe, _just maybe_ , he shouldn’t be thinking so much. Not right now. The only thinking he should be doing has everything to do with how much pleasure he wants to spark through Hinata’s skin and anything to do with the reasons, circumstances or merely contained feelings that lead him to the happy position he’s occupying now.

Shouyou’s eyes _glimmer_ and Atsumu can’t stop the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth. His entire world narrows to Hinata’s face only, blurred amidst the darkness, but very real. Real enough for him to arch his back, lifting his head to turn those mere inches separating them into nothing and brush his lips against the other’s.

Hinata hums against his mouth, a sound of approval that turns Atsumu’s brain into mush and his knees into jelly. He’s thankful he’s lying on his back because the moment Shouyou tilts his head to the left and parts his lips, ready to devour him, his entire being is set completely ablaze and he’s pretty sure the fire that pulls through his veins is about to consume him to the core of the atoms that form his body.

The kiss is sloppy but not less passionate; both of them put into it as much as they can, desperately trying to explain their feelings with the constant motion of their lips pressed together and tongues swirling, exploring, mapping each other’s mouth without ever being satisfied. Atsumu’s hands travel to the north, search for the edge of Shouyou’s shirt with eager fingers that spread over taut thighs and sharp hipbones. His thumbs press against the muscles that dive pass the elastic waistband of his boxers and smirks when Hinata gasps, writhing slightly between his grasp.

“Ah, _there_ ,” he blurts out. His lips are parted, glistening with saliva, swollen by their kiss. Atsumu wishes he’d turned on the lights before doing this because he _needs_ to take a look at Hinata’s face.

Atsumu’s fingers finally find the edge of his shirt and dip into the space between his abdomen and the piece of clothing. His muscles tense underneath the tip of his fingers and he’s about to complain when Hinata straightens his back, retiring from his personal space.

He swallows every single one of his complaints when Shouyou’s hands grip the collar of the shirt and pull. The edge rises and reveals more skin like the curtains of a theatre separating to unveil the scenario and Atsumu’s mouth goes dry. He’s got all of Hinata’s upper half exposed and it’s all _his_ to explore, to mark, and memorize. He wants to map with his fingers and mouth every curve, angle, hollow, and mountain of his anatomy and the mere idea makes his hips buckle.

Shouyou _keens_ and something snaps inside of his brain.

Atsumu flips their positions and pins Hinata against the mattress with a helpless groan that makes Shouyou giggle.

* * *

The morning light is soft and golden on his face and it’d be almost poetic if he didn’t want to stay asleep. There’s something weighing on his arm and he’s long resigned to the prickling of his stiff muscles.

When he blinks into the light and takes in his surroundings, he realizes he’s not in his bedroom. There’s a short moment of confusion before last night comes crashing down on him like a tidal wave; he doesn’t need to look to know that the thing weighing down on his arm is Shouyou’s head but he does so anyway because there’s something deeply endearing in finding his face mere inches away from his.

He sleeps peacefully, the air coming in and out of his nose with a faint whistling that brings up memories of a hummingbird snoring he saw once in an internet video. This moment is as precious as the one caught in camera. It makes him smile from ear to ear while feeling like the entire world has finally shifted to give him exactly what he wants.

He’d be a bit ungrateful if he really believed that but for now, just for this fragile second, he allows himself to truly believe that. He allows himself to truly believe that the man sleeping in the middle of the circle of his arms is the only thing the universe has decided to give to him without putting any effort into it. Because heaven knows he’s wanted this since he was seventeen but heaven also knows that this is the only thing he didn’t dare to fight for.

Shouyou isn’t his professional volleyball player career. He’s not something he could’ve won over with sheer effort and hard work. He’s his own person and the improbable coincidence of him reciprocating his feelings does feel like the only thing the universe has decided to give to him without him having to put any effort into it.

That’s why he allows himself to dwell in the satisfaction of seeing his eyelashes flutter when he opens his eyes, amber irises glazed over with slumber searching for him with the slow-motion-like feeling of someone who’s just waking up. It takes Shouyou three seconds to finally register what’s going on in his brain and when he does, the biggest smile spreads on his lips, parting his face in two.

“Morning,” he greets. It’s only one word but it’s slurred and thick and Atsumu can’t even begin to describe how much he loves the sound.

“Mornin’, Shouyou-kun,” Atsumu greets back, grinning. His eyes fall on the red hickey that signals the exact point where he found his pulse point last night and the memories flood his head. He blinks a few times to push them away, shoving them into the darkness corner of his mind until the time to go over them comes. “How’d ya sleep?”

“Like a baby,” Shouyou giggles. The sound pushes a few memories back on the centre of his mind and Atsumu groans internally. He will never live down his own brain betraying him like this. It’s not like he doesn’t want to go over the blurred images of what happened last night— it’s that he really can’t. Not _right now_ , at least. “You?”

Atsumu purrs before answering.

“Ah, Shouyou-kun, if ya _knew_ ,” he sighs, smirking. “Best night of sleep in years. What do I say years, _decades_.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Have ya met me?” Atsumu snorts. “’Course I am.”

Hinata barks out a laugh, muffling it against Atsumu’s neck. The sound vibrates through his skin and settles itself in the back of his head like the bass of a song blasting through a bar. This is infinitely more pleasant, though, and he sighs against the hair of Shouyou’s temple.

“Guess it’s ‘cause I’d never woken up with ya,” he mumbles. Hinata’s hair tickles his lips. “So yah, Imma be a bit dramatic today.”

There’s a long silence that makes Atsumu think Hinata’s fallen asleep again. His chest inflates and deflates with each breath he takes and his heart beats steady and calm. The sound pushes drowsiness onto Atsumu’s eyes once again and he’s just starting to drift back to sleep when Hinata straightens his back, fixing his amber eyes on his.

“I love you.”

Atsumu blinks.

“I love ya too.”

They smile at the same time and for now, there’s nothing more needed to say between them. He supposes they can leave the explanations for another moment, when their heads are clear and completely free from the laziness that keeps the gears of their brains locked in place. Maybe over a nutritious breakfast after Hinata’s done with his morning meditation and exercise routine.

Maybe after a shower.

Maybe when Shouyou definitely kicks his ass for all the hickeys he left on his neck and cleavage last night.

**Author's Note:**

> That's all from me for today's prompt! I hope you enjoyed it<3 If you did, leave your kudos down there, they're free (?)
> 
> Remember you can come scream at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Xhiiluh)! I also created a [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/Xhiiluh) account, so we can hang out over there too! 
> 
> Also, A BIG SHOUTOUT TO ALL THE ARTISTS AND FANFICKERS THAT HAVE SUBMITTED CONTENT FOR THIS WEEK! Y'all have me on the floor, SOBBING because it's beautiful. Everything's beautiful and my heart cannot handle it. 
> 
> See you all tomorrow! 


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